Izuna's Peace
by Cavallo Alato
Summary: Izuna regrets nothing, because even in death, he knows who really will bring peace to the ninja world.


It wasn't that Izuna regretted giving his eyes to his brother. It wasn't that he missed his vision, though it would have made things easier. It wasn't even the pain behind the pressure of the bandage wrapped over his empty sockets. His own eyes had nothing to do with it.

It was the eyes of his clan.

Izuna shivered every time he sensed Uchiha eyes on him—he could feel them stabbing him, as if each red eye was probing him, accusing him, carving away at him. No, that wasn't quite right. These eyes were probing and soft, almost apologetic. The vicious knives he felt were the stares directed at Madara. Each and every Uchiha blamed their clan leader. _What did Izuna ever do to you?_ _You never gave the poor boy a chance_.

They were wrong. Izuna regretted nothing.

But still, they aimed their vicious Sharingan at Madara, their own clan leader. In return, Madara said nothing, did nothing, only turned away. He refused to look at them with Izuna's eyes, fearing that if he did, Izuna would see how the clan had betrayed them. Izuna didn't need eyes; he already knew.

He knew things that his brother didn't know, things that he would never share, for the same reasons Madara kept his own secrets. Day after day, unbeknownst to Madara, Izuna was dying. He showed nothing, gave away nothing. Madara never failed to take care of his brother. He led Izuna from place to place, took care of him, was always one step ahead so that he could be his brother's eyes.

In death, Izuna thought wryly, Izuna was one step ahead.

On a foggy October night, when Madara was out scouting with a few other clan members, Izuna sat alone in his room. He absently wondered if the clan members would suddenly turn on his brother tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Or next week. Perhaps they wouldn't have to do anything, and the Senju would take him down during their next battle. Izuna knew full well the capabilities of the Senju. He would never underestimate them; at one point, he used to fear their leader, just as others feared Madara. He had no doubt that if Madara miscalculated even one tiny step, Hashirama would take him down and bury him alive. He used to fear for himself.

Izuna was not afraid anymore. When he gave Madara his eyes, he believed that his brother would carry them to peace. At least, that's what Madara claimed. Izuna still believed him, he believed in peace. In fact, he longed for it. His greatest wish was an end to the eternal warfare that dominated the ninja world. Izuna believed that his eyes, Madara's, now, would be able to achieve it. He just wouldn't be there to see it.

Madara had failed to see the blood Izuna coughed up every once in a while. The younger Uchiha hid it carefully, cleaning his dirtied hands and washing the crimsoned clothes. Izuna memorized every stain without his eyes, and snuck away during the night to clean his mess. Izuna was a shinobi who had no need for eyes. Simple tasks he was capable of. No one needed to see. He himself was enough.

There it was. Izuna remembered the color red. His throat tightened, and bile threatened to rise from his stomach, carrying the rest of its contents. On a day before this, he knew he would have to feel around the room down the hall for vinegar to scrub away the smell of vomit, and then he would have to go by the odor of blood that was coughed up to wash his clothes.

Now, there was no need. It would be the last time.

"Thank you," he said. He wasn't sure who he was thanking. He decided to thank Madara, his brother. For what? No answer.

Then, lying down on his bed, he smiled to himself. Here, Izuna would lay quietly, hands folded neatly on his chest, ignoring the blood seeping from his lips and from his eye sockets, staining the bandages a hateful garnet, until a peaceful dullness took over him.

Sinking into the dark numbness, Izuna thought vaguely,

_I can see peace, Madara. Can you? _

His last breath left him as he sadly answered his own question:

Madara could not.

* * *

The agonizing wail that pierced the walls of every building in the Uchiha clan's camp would forever ring in their ears. Later on, people would murmur and tell of the only time they believed that Uchiha Madara had cried. Those who were young, like Uchiha Kagami, barely a child back then, would recall Madara's shaking hands and trembling shoulders. And then, suddenly, he stopped.

There were no tears. It wasn't because Uchiha Madara didn't cry.

It was because Izuna's eyes refused to cry for himself.

* * *

Madara buried his brother himself. His clan watched from a distance, but they were people he considered unrelated. He was the only true Uchiha. He and Izuna were the only real ones, but now only Madara was left.

He sat next to the plot of land he had just filled, staring dismally at the ugly job he had done. This was not worthy of Izuna. The soil was dry and gray, dusty and uneven. The grave was rocky and lacked a tombstone.

The clan began to file away, back into camp. They had no business with Madara; only a moment of respect for a boy who had given up his blood in vain.

Madara ignored them. He stared at the place where something, anything, should have marked Izuna's presence. But it was just a lonely lump of dirt, a scuffle in the dry ninja world.

Suddenly, the earth moistened and a ripple through the ground evened out the grave. A slight crackle was heard when a sapling burst from the ground and twisted into the shape of a grave. Upon its flat surface, Izuna's name was engraved. Madara turned to see two Senju paying their respects—one dark-haired, hand extended as he finished the grave, and the other a perfect contrast in white hair and a quiet gaze.

Hashirama's extended hand was turned to Madara.

Madara's eyes hurt, they throbbed, the heat in his sockets hurt as if he had just burn them out of his skull. The clan members watched him. His eyes urged him forward.

It was the closest Izuna came to seeing peace.

* * *

Oh gosh, where did this come from?

...It's depressing (the story, _and_ my writing skills)

I lack writing skills...

Random little tidbit, because I think Izuna must've been sad in the end...

Never written Naruto, before, so it's kind of interesting. I don't want to spam with my Tobirama OC too... =_=''

**NOTE: **Apparently Izuna died in battle. -shrugs- So this is slightly AU-ish. In any case, I just jumped back into the Naruto fandom

(thanks Obit-Tobi) _Blunt spoilers. =3=_

so I probably forgot lots of stuff and whatnot. My own take on Izuna, though.


End file.
